Chapter 14
“I was going to leave your curricle here for you, Peter, honestly, I was, and the horses, but I wanted to get to an inn without you both quarrelling over me, and there isn’t room for three,” said Lucy.
The boys exchanged glances.
“She’s logical,” said Toby.
“And possibly correct,” said Peter.
“But still a wretch,” said Toby. “And would be well served if we both washed our hands of her.”
“You wouldn’t!” gasped Lucy.
Anne dismounted.
“Come and make yourself comfortable and we shall leave the gentlemen to sort out matters regarding the use and misuse of Mr. Carstairs’s curricle,” she said. “You are welcome to come with us, but if you marry either of those little boys, I shall have to say, you lack common sense. Neither of them is old enough for marriage.”
“I was coming to that conclusion myself, but what else am I to do?” said Lucy, as Anne led her away.
“Ravenscar will think of something,” said Anne.
“You have a lot of faith in him,” said Lucy. “I’m not sure men are that capable really.”
“Ravenscar literally saved my life which is a long and unpleasant story which I am not about to impart to a stranger,” said Anne. “He is a rock. I fancy I may be his rock as well, which is how it should be, partners who rely on each other. Your young swains did at least leap to your rescue; you have to grant them that.”
“But without a plan.”
“And what was your plan when you ran away with exploding bandboxes?”
“Oh! That is too bad of Toby! I had dropped one of my bandboxes, and the rope slipped, that is all! I meant to make my way to my aunt in York, but I thought that eloping might do as well, and would at least get us heading in the right direction, so I decided I could suggest going to my aunt when we were closer to York.”
“So long as you told him before he veered west for Gretna.”
“Oh, well, there would be signposts to York, I am sure,” said Lucy. She took off her bonnet, revealing a cloud of dark hair much like Anne’s.
Anne laughed.
“Why, if nothing else, Julian and I might play the decoy for you and Peter,” she said. “Once we’ve left you in York. How far behind you are your parents?”
“I don’t know, but they were packing when Peter left,” said Lucy.
“Well, that rather depends how long your parents usually take to get ready for a journey,” said Anne.
“Days,” said Lucy. “Well, actually, I doubt they could have got on the road before the next morning unless Sir Arthur set off in his curricle ahead of them, he being already packed to come and stay with us.”
“Well, depend upon it, we can manage to create some kind of diversion,” said Anne. “What don’t you like about Sir Arthur Fossingdean?”
“Oh! He is old,” said Lucy. “And he spoke to me of his pigs, when we danced together.”
“Oh, are they prize porkers?” asked Anne.
“I don’t know; but pigs! There is no romance in pigs,” said Lucy.
“And what did you speak about?” asked Anne.
“I was too shy to initiate conversation,” said Lucy.
“Has it occurred to you that he might also be shy and seized on something unromantic but which he knows about, to fill awkward silences?” asked Anne.
“I don’t know,” said Lucy. “He rears saddlebacks, which are black pigs with a white marking over their shoulders and down their front legs.”
“Well, you have learned something about pigs, anyway,” said Anne, leading Lucy to find the parlour doubtless bespoken by Julian.
“Lucy wants to go to her aunt in York,” said Anne. “And doubtless will be better staying there to make up her mind about whether she wants to marry at all, never mind who.”
“So, we can push off home?” said Peter. “What should we tell our parents? And Lucy’s?”
“Tell them you fell into an argument over whose curricle was the faster, and you decided to make a long race of it, because the stamina of your horse was called into account,” said Julian. “And you called it off when Toby crashed.”
“Well, yes, obviously,” said Peter. “And neither of us seemed to have much advantage either.”
“Which is generous of you, as you caught us up,” said Toby.
“Oh, we’re alike in enough things, I’m not about to quibble,” said Peter. “I wonder if this town has a wheelwright? We could get a new axle for your curricle.”
“Oh, I should think every village larger than a hamlet on the Great North Road would manage that,” said Toby. “If not, we’ll buy a length of wood and a spokeshave. I daresay I can make something that’ll work long enough to get it replaced properly in somewhere a bit bigger.”
“He isn’t boasting, he’s good with his hands,” said Peter. “I’m better at planning, but we’re neither of us complete idiots with tools.”
“I am sure you will manage very well,” said Julian. “A tip for you; I always travel with extra axles and a spare wheel, though a curricle could hardly stow that.”
“By Jove, what a capital idea,” said Peter.
The young men left after having discussed a fine luncheon and let their horses rest a while, heading back south, determined to appear innocently insouciant.
“A pleasant pair; when they’ve grown up a bit, hopefully they will find a couple of nice girls currently in the schoolroom who admire them for their panache,” said Julian. “You’re my sister-in-law while we are on the road, Miss Denleigh, and I am going to call you ‘Lucy’ because to do otherwise would be noticed.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” said Lucy.
Anne drew Lucy out in the coach during Julian’s turn driving.
“Isn’t it unusual for a gentleman to drive when you have a coachman?” asked Lucy.
“Yes, but Julian enjoys it, and he appreciates that Joseph is not as young as he used to be, and that being alert is a good idea on a winter’s drive.”
“Yes, I can see that. Toby waxed most irritable at times on the drive, and I could see he was tired. And so was Peter when he caught up, and they were both inclined to be fractious.”
“A word we never use to their faces,” said Anne.
“I probably would, with Peter and Toby,” admitted Lucy. “But they are more like brothers than suitors, and I love them, but not to marry.”
“I have to say, if a man is happy with pigs, he probably doesn’t waste his time and blunt on a string of mistresses,” said Anne. “He puts more effort into his land than into his social life.”
“Oh! I suppose so,” said Lucy. “I would like some social life, though.”
“Perhaps your aunt can persuade your parents to let you have a little season in York, which would be less hot and enervating than being in town,” said Anne. “And it would be less of a squeeze, and more convivial.”
“I can ask her,” said Lucy.
Anne learned that Lucy was amenable to her governess most of the time, and obeyed her strictures.
“But I do not see why I should give up fishing, and playing games in the wood; we pretend to stalk each other, or play at being Robin Hood,” she said.
“Because, my dear, you are on the verge of adulthood, and your governess fears that games of being Maid Marion, or Rapunzel, or some princess in a tower will end with young men becoming inflamed, and you becoming pregnant,” said Anne, bluntly.
“But they would not! And I would not let them!” said Lucy.
“You know that; and having met them, I can believe it,” said Anne. “But the world is a wicked place, and tongues wag. And if your parents try to make you marry Toby, why, you were with us the whole time. What did you do when you stayed in inns?”
“He claimed me as his sister,” said Lucy.
“I don’t suppose anyone believed you, but it’s at least less of being compromised,” said Anne. “We are making good time, and I fancy we shall lay over at Bawtry tonight, which is fifty miles from York, which can be done in a day, but the horses won’t like it.”
The coach halted at Retford, and Julian joined them.
“Joseph is all for pushing on as far as we can go,” he said. “It will make the final leg to York less arduous, and we might put up there and rest a day.”
“I won’t be disappointed,” said Anne. “If you think we can afford to do do.”
“I think your uncle will peal off to the west,” said Julian. “It must surely lose him some time.”
oOoOo
Denver and Wilcox were making better time with two horses used to a heavier carriage and a curricle, well-built, well-sprung, and built for speed. They were glad that the weather was better, and hurried on from Stamford.
They managed to reach Grantham, and celebrated, certain that they must have almost caught up with their quarry.
Learning that Lord Ravenscar and his party had left the town early that morning, Denver threw his hat on the floor in anger and frustration.
Had they but known it, they were sharing their chase with a Sir Arthur Fossingdean, who enquired about a dark haired young lady in charge of one or a pair of young puppies. Mine host had no difficulty in remembering Lucy and Toby.
oOoOo
Joseph drove on, the team making no more than token protest, through the Rossington turnpike, and thanking providence that it was two months since St. Leger week, to avoid the traffic of race-goers. He grimly rolled on through the village of Bentley, and pushed on after nightfall into Askeron.[1]
He chose his place to stay with care, and went back to the coach.
“I figured nobody would look at the spa,” he said.
Julian laughed in delight.
“No, I don’t suppose they will,” he said. “If you want to take advantage of hot baths for your rheumatism, I’m happy to pay for it.”
“Well, I don’t mind if I do, thank you kindly,” said Joseph.
“And I’ll drink the water to strengthen me as we are anticipating a happy event,” said Anne.
“We are?” said Julian.
“Well, obviously not, but it adds verisimilitude as to why we are here,” said Anne. “We don’t want to be memorable and if I play the sickly young mother-to-be, nobody will take any notice of us. I doubt anyone in pursuit got further than Doncaster; it was a mighty effort, and if we stay here a couple of days, why, Sir Arthur might overtake us, if he heads for York to see if Lucy is with her aunt.”
“Actually, I like that a lot,” said Julian. “A day off after so long a leg would be advantageous.”
The spa was comfortable, and Anne found herself tenderly cared for, and helped to bathe in the spa water with the aid of a brawny Yorkshire woman, whose accent was so thick, Anne had to guess at most of her kindly conversation.
It was a welcome interlude, and the day they lay over was pleasant enough, with a smart frost, and Anne went for a brisk walk with Julian.
“A picturesque spot,” said Julian. “And as yet unspoilt. I hope it does not become too famous, or there will be building works to improve and otherwise spoil it.”
“Pessimist,” said Anne.
“Realist,” said Julian. “It is, however, pleasing to enjoy the sights without them whipping past one at eight to ten miles an hour. And the horses appreciate the rest, also.”
“It’s pleasant to have a warm room all day,” said Anne. “I confess, I do find travelling a cold experience.”
“It would add too much weight for the horses to put a second floor in the carriages,” said Julian. “But I am inclined to tack woollen strips round the edge of the doors to block draughts, and put a blanket down as a carpet.”
“It’s worth trying,” said Anne.
Perhaps one might turn a pitying glance on the pursuers in open carriages. Devon and Wilcox managed to reach Retford in their curricle on the extra day they had to catch up; and Sir Arthur lay over at Doncaster. Indeed, the little party was considering getting on the road when Lucy, looking out of her window, cried out, and ran to Anne, as Sir Arthur’s curricle swept through the village.
“Why, we shall wait another day, then,” said Julian, cheerfully. “A lady’s whimsies permit this. Let him go into York, and be sent away by your aunt with a flea in his ear, and then, we shall pass him on the road tomorrow, going the other way, and he will not know that it is you, my dear Lucy, for it is my crest on the coaches, and he has no call to suppose that we are even acquainted.”
“And what if he holds you up?” asked Lucy, in a small voice.
“I will acquaint him with the idea that he might take a tour of the infernal regions; though at this time of year, Yorkshire comes close,” said Julian, making Anne giggle. He added, “I am not displeased, I believe they have quite a way with serving a gigot of mutton here, which is on the menu tonight.”
It might be said that the disappointed Sir Arthur was badly shaken, and wondering whether the girl he admired greatly was indeed well on her way to Gretna Green; but he had little choice but to lay over in York whilst he pondered his options.
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